Alcander and Camilla knelt down beside the ruin of the servo-skull, more than half-buried from the recent sandstorm. Carefully, Alcander brushed the dirt off with a bit of cloth like some xenoarchaeologist from the schola, and finally when he felt confident it wouldn't break apart from a small tug, he gingerly lifted it up. The mechandetrites weren't yet rusted, those that were left, anyway. Some of the lower jaw was still in the dried ground, and bits and pieces of the skull were missing from some concussive blow. 

"Wat eesit?" Camilla asked in her extravagant accent. 

"It's bloody damn wrecked," Alcander responded in a breath, turning the servo-skull so the Rogue Trader could get a better view. "Soomething strook th' thing, braken th' parietal bone and the sphenoin, blastin' thrugh the nasal cavity. Pict-recorder's shot tae heel. But..." 

He fished in his pocket and produced a combi-tool, flipping out a small invasive piece of metal and slowly tinkering around inside, closing one eye to get a better focus. Alcander had some small amount of experience with servo-skulls and their make, though he wished his old enginseer associate Madrek was here. After a few moments, he cursed and flipped the combi-tool, utilizing a small screw-driver implement, diving back in.

"Samthing I canne do to help?" Camilla asked, tilting her head as she watched. She ended the sentence quietly, however, her keen eyes finding Alcander was on the cusp of something. Biting his tongue gingerly, there was a small, albeit concerning scraping noise from inside the skull, and the probator breathed 'coome onnnnn..." before there was a 'click,' and the dark haired man grinned, giving a deep throated chuckle. 

"Data-loom's fried, boot th' back oop synaptics ah think ah ken salvage. We need a good cogitator, a bloody damn good one, an' mehbeh we ken get a small picto-feed o' what transpired." He said, and glanced down at the materials still embedded in the dirt. He handed Camilla the servo-skull, who blinked her big eyes but took it, clearly ordering herself mentally not to drop the thing. Alcander removed the fragments he could find, and placed it softly in his jacket. 

"Ah'm sher yer Yvraine is guud at her joob, but somethen's fishy here." He told her, and the experience of his years of investigating showed in his blue eyes.